


I've found a whole new way to love you

by winged_mammal



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Cybersex, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winged_mammal/pseuds/winged_mammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena may be off on a mission, but that doesn't mean she can't help Myka with her problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've found a whole new way to love you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acesmcgee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesmcgee/gifts).



> For my darling aces, on her birthday.
> 
> Title is from the Scissor Sisters song of the same name.

"You're looking ravishing as always, darling."

Helena's voice greets you from the desk as you step into your bedroom, startling you despite the fact that you'd left Skype on just for this purpose. It has become habit when one of you is on a mission without the other, born out of a desperate need to confirm that she is still around and _not_ a hologram and having grown into simple sentimental tradition. Your clothes are tossed carelessly aside and you pull out the chair, smoothing down your robe as you sit in front of your computer. The smile dancing about your lips is possibly too excited for a grown woman of your age and profession, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Helena," you breathe, taking in her face in full non-Farnsworth vibrant color for the first time since she left two days ago.

"Hello, Myka. I was becoming concerned that I'd missed you before you went to bed, and you had merely fallen asleep with your computer on."

"Not yet, no. I was just taking a shower." You can see the barest first glimmers of sunlight peeking through the curtain behind her and you narrow your eyes in confusion. "Where are you? I thought you were in Helsinki."

"Lisbon. Claudia traced activity in the accounts our thief is using to here, so we followed." Her hair flows through her fingers as she runs her hand through it and leans forward. "Claudia and Steven offered to question some witnesses on their own so that I might talk to you before you retired for the night."

"Oh that was nice." Though you suspect Claudia had ulterior motives in the form of needling Steve into pointing out peoples' lies in increasingly tactless ways without anyone else being around to stop her.

"Indeed. I do wish civilians would find a use for artifacts other than bank robbery, though. This is getting rather tiresome."

"Lisbon, though," you offer. "That's new."

"Believe me, I would much rather be home with you."

"I know." You absently reach up to pull your hair back, the wet curls tangling slightly in the elastic as you loop it around. When you return your gaze to Helena's face on your screen, it is to see her looking back at you with narrowed eyes and a smirk you've long since learned to recognize.

"Myka."

And there's the tone to go with it. "What?"

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Her eyebrow raises as though she knows the answer. You suspect she does.

"Like what?"

Her eyes pointedly flick down your chest, and your own follow. Your robe has fallen open slightly, exposing the bare skin beneath. "You've been on a slow burn all day."

Good lord, you'll never understand how her voice does that. 

"I don't know what..." But you do. God, you do, and you'll be damned if she isn't right. Though how she can tell from thousands of miles and several time zones away is beyond you. You shouldn't be surprised, though. She has an uncanny ability to gauge your moods, especially with regard to this.

"I think you know exactly what I mean." Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips in what anyone else would deem a subconscious gesture, but you know it is entirely deliberate. "The only time you come to bed wearing naught but your robe after showering is when you plan on seducing me as soon as the door is closed."

Your memory rapidly comes to the conclusion that she is correct, though you have to wonder how she noticed the pattern when you'd never actively thought about it yourself before. "I _never_ have to seduce you." 

Her head tilts in acceptance of this fact, a smile gracing her lips. "I love you for your mind, darling. Truly."

"Sometimes I wonder," you tease, and her smile widens into a truly lascivious grin.

"Nevertheless, the fact remains that you have found yourself with something of a problem." She leans closer toward her camera, resting on her forearms on the desk before her, and her voice drops to its most devastating register. "Tell me, Myka, what has your mind been occupied with today that has put you in such a state?"

The fire in her eyes has managed to scorch your throat even from a distance; after several difficult moments you manage to rasp out an answer. "A dream." At her expectant expression you swallow and continue, the thumb and middle finger of your right hand coming up to rub nervously at your clavicles. "A dream about you. Us. It just kept... coming back during the day. I'd try to get some work done, but..."

"You couldn't concentrate." You nod, and she leans back, arms crossed. "And now it's the end of the day and you're finally alone, and you were going to take care of your needs. Without consulting me."

You know full well that the indignation in her voice is a ruse, but try to defend yourself anyway. "Well, you're not exactly here to - "

"I may be old-fashioned," Helena interrupts, looking positively gleeful, "but I know how to take advantage of opportunities afforded to me by technology."

She leans forward then, and your eyes lock on to hers as she looks straight into the camera. "Take me to bed, darling."

You can't even pretend to not understand what she is suggesting, and you know, even as a half-hearted protest forms on your lips, that whether or not you would give in to her gentle demand was never a question in her mind - you're too far gone already, and your pride can’t even bother to feel injured by the fact that all it took was her voice and those eyes to get you there.

So it is that you find yourself tripping over the power cord of your laptop as you carry it the few steps toward your bed, sparing a thought to be grateful that you have the bed and breakfast blissfully to yourself thanks to Pete having somehow managed to drag Leena to a late-night showing of some 1950's horror movie. It's one thing for Helena’s moans to wake him up when they break through the still of the night, prompting him to offer you a wordless high five when you stumble into the kitchen in the morning looking debauched past the point of caring - but for him to overhear you having cybersex with your 150-year-old girlfriend? 

No.

But for now, the only other person around is Mr. Bear, and you resist the impulse to turn him around so his quietly judging eyes won't witness the things you're about to do. Helena's growing smile jostles on the screen as you settle yourself on the bed, leaning against the headboard with your computer resting on your thighs.

Her eyebrow raises when you turn your attention fully back to her. "Myka, darling, you know your lap is one of my favorite places to be, but I believe in this instance I would only be a hindrance."

Sometimes you hate how affected you are by her teasing. Memories of countless stolen moments on couches and chairs, her shins bracketing your legs as she straddles you and moves in closer race through your mind, causing a hitch in your breath that she notices and her lips curl into an even cheekier smirk. You let out a huff and lean forward, placing the computer on the bed in front of your crossed legs.

"Oh come now, darling," she pouts as you absently pull at the robe around your throat. You give her a glare and pointedly hold your robe closed, blocking her view of your chest. You'll give her a better look later, when you'll be less inclined to die of embarrassment for sheer wantonness. "It's nothing I haven't already seen."

Helena's eyes move back to your chest, apparently willing your hand to fall away. 

"Or touched."

Her tongue darts out to slowly run along her lips.

"Or tasted."

You wish you weren't so stubborn. Your robe is suddenly far too stifling.

"God dammit, Helena," you grind out between clenched teeth.

"What did I do?"

"You know _exactly_ what."

She leans forward and props her cheek on her fist, the resulting image incongruously adorable for the context. "I love that you find my charm so irresistable, darling."

"You're _lucky_ I do," you counter, but can't fight back your smile.

The quiet hum of the fan in your computer is the only sound for a long moment as you both simply take in the other, and the familiar anticipation that always precedes a moment alone with her tingles through you.

"Tell me about your dream, Myka," she murmurs, her voice laden with arousal.

There are times when you curse your mind's ability to extend your eidetic memory even to your dreams. Visions of flame and smoke still inexplicably plague you, seeming almost fractured memories rather than the nightmares they are, though they have come with less devastating frequency over the years. There's a reason that most people can't remember their dreams so vividly, and although yours generally tend toward the more mundane there were several days that found you felled by the memory of Helena's hand reaching out toward yours, only to be atomized by Sykes' bomb just as your fingers brushed.

Now, though, you are mostly grateful for it, even if you're still trying to ward off the lingering disbelief that you're actually doing something this... seedy. But you know you should try not to judge yourself. And if it comes down to it, you can blame Helena.

"We were in Franklin twenty-seven, doing inventory."

"Sex in the Warehouse, darling?" Her face lights up at the suggestion.

"Don't get any ideas," you warn. You know all too well the dangers of letting _any_ emotion run wild when you're in the Warehouse. With the heights that she can bring you to, you'd be lucky to not end up causing your own death by static ball.

"But you always give me such lovely ones."

"Yeah, well, I still have a gouge on my ass from the last lovely idea you got."

"I swear that table wasn't there before I kissed you."

"My wound begs to differ."

"You still have my deepest apologies." Helena resettles in her chair, arms again resting on the desk. "Please, continue."

You let your eyes unfocus as the dream comes back to you. "We were at the end of the aisle. We'd just finished for the day, and you put an arm around my waist and kissed my shoulder. You'd been making lewd comments all day, trying to get a rise out of me, and although I'd always just shake my head at you, I did get... distracted."

She leans forward, light dancing in her eyes. "You were aroused."

"Yes," you admit, your gaze darting briefly to Mr. Bear's silent judgment. "You pulled my clipboard out of my hands and let it drop, and turned me around enough so you could push me against the shelf and kiss me. I told you we shouldn't be making out so close to the artifacts, so you put your hands on my waist and guided me down onto the floor." 

A quick glance confirms that she is as affected by your dream as you were - still are, to be perfectly honest - and you swallow once and decide to put off any awkward embarrassment over your words for later, when she isn't looking at you like she's going to reach through the monitor and ravish you.

"You settled next to me... or, mostly on top of me, really, though not so much that you couldn't already be groping me beneath my shirt. I had my hands on the back of your head as we kissed but they moved to your hips to pull you closer to me, and you moaned when it ground you against my leg. We were both so lost already, but you managed to undo my belt and slip your hand under my jeans and get your fingers inside me."

Helena sits up straighter at that. "Were you very wet, darling?"

Her voice is silk and fire, washing over your skin and making you tremble. "Yes."

"And are you now?"

"God yes."

She nods, the smile that curves her lips utterly failing to reach her eyes as they bore into you. "What would you have me do, if I were there with you now?"

"I..." Flashes of memory from the dream and countless nights together cross your mind, coming far too fast for you to settle on any one thing. "I just need you to touch me."

There is a pause, and when she responds it is with a slow, measured lilt. "And I would be all too happy to oblige, love. I imagine I would start by sitting next to you on our bed, leaning over and kissing you, taking my time as I tasted your lips. I'd feel your heartbeat grow faster under my palm when my hand weaved its way beneath your robe, and I'd savor the warmth of your skin at my fingertips, the way your flesh moved, so alive, so vibrant in your passion. The human body is a wondrous thing, Myka, and that you have allowed me to explore yours so thoroughly is a gift I shall never take for granted.

"Mapping the response my touches elicit is one of my favorite things to do with you. I know them so well by now, and yet every time it is still a revelation to feel the way your jaw twitches when I kiss its curve, to hear your sharp intake of breath when I graze my teeth along the column of your neck, delighting in the rumble of your moan against my tongue as I trace down the striations of muscle in your throat. I would do all of these things to you now, even as I gently pushed your robe off your shoulders as you so clearly want me to do."

You start at the amusement in her voice and look down to find your hand has wormed its way under the folds of your robe, unconsciously palming your breast as you let the words falling off her tongue wash over you, and it occurs to you that _H.G. Wells_ is essentially writing an erotic short story. 

About you.

"Would you enjoy that, Myka?"

And you've absolutely fallen under its spell.

"So much."

Helena hums in satisfaction and makes a gesture at her chest and you finally give up all - or, _almost_ all - pretense and shrug off the robe, leaving it pooled around your legs.

"It's not nice to tease, you know."

"You love it when I tease. The way I barely trail my fingertips over your skin and delight in the shivers I cause in my wake. The warmth of my breath as I lean over your chest and only just press my lips to your sternum, and take my time in deciding which of your breasts I want to pleasure first. The exquisite torture of my tongue when I trace it along the outer edges of the areola so slowly that the moisture I leave behind evaporates and cools your skin into tightening, your nipple into becoming so desperate for attention I have no other choice but to take it into my mouth and provide some measure of relief.

"And do you know, Myka, what I have found to be my favorite part of these moments?"

Somewhere between your fingers kneading your own nipple and your increasingly agitated clenching of your thighs, you've completely lost your ability to speak. Fortunately she doesn't seem to actually expect a response.

"It is the way your body moves against mine. Your slight gasps, the whimpers you try to hold in but fail to contain. The way you begin to fall apart around me, and I still have yet to touch you the way you crave. It's so intoxicating, and I become torn between my desire to make love to you and my need to take you so completely we are both driven to exhaustion.

"Which would you have me do, if we were together in this moment?"

There really is no question. "Take me."

"I was rather hoping you'd say that." Her head tilts, her voice dropping into a gentle demand. "Lay back for me, love."

All thoughts of anything other than Helena and the incredible need you feel for her having long since been thrown by the wayside, you don't hesitate to obey. The robe falls to the floor as you untie its loose belt and shove it aside, moving the laptop to the opposite side of the bed and angling its screen so Helena can still see you from your new position stretched out across the mattress.

"I trust you can follow my lead." You turn your head to face her and nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. "You are so very beautiful, Myka. If I were there with you now I doubt I'd be able to resist roaming my hands over the expanse of your skin, down between your breasts, over your stomach, crossing over to your hip and back again. I'd cover your breasts with my hands, feel them resting under my palms, follow their curve with my fingers and apply soft pressure to watch the way you bare your throat at my touch."

Your hands follow the path of her words. When she hesitates slightly you open your eyes and note that one of her hands has disappeared and her torso seems to be moving suspiciously rhythmically.

"Helena, are you - "

"You think far too highly of me," she interrupts, her breath catching slightly on her words, "if you think I can watch you like this and not need release myself."

You bite back a groan at the knowledge of what she is doing; you're spiraling, far beyond what you would have thought this could manage, and when she resumes spinning her verbal web she only sends you down even further.

"You said you wanted me to take you, darling. I would give you what you wanted now, and reach between our bodies to press my fingers into you. You'd be so incredibly wet, Myka, so eager for my touch, and your body would rise up into mine at the sensation of my fingers filling you. I would revel in your warmth, the smooth welcoming flesh at my fingertips that closed in around me and tried to pull me in further."

Helena's breathing has begun to match your own erratic intake of air, and you wonder if her hand is making the same motions as yours as it works between your legs to enact her verbal seduction. 

"I would move slowly at first, making you feel every centimeter of my fingers as they slid against your skin, withdrawing enough for you to feel the pressure of the heel of my hand at your clitoris before I entered you again. Your hips would rise to meet my touch, and my languid movements would come nowhere near bringing you satisfaction. You would become so beautifully desperate, Myka, it would almost be worth it to prolong your torture simply to watch you beg."

"Helena..."

"But I would be nearly as far gone as you, darling, simply from seeing you become so primal in your need for release. I would draw nearer to your ear and graze its curves with my teeth before taking a breath and asking if you wanted me to _fuck_ you now."

She emphasizes the profanity with the tone she has long since learned to be your achilles heel; your eyes wrench shut as your body surges against your own slowly moving hand, and an involuntary groan rumbles its way through your throat.

" _Yes_ ," you manage to grind out, and she bares her teeth with her smile.

"I would fuck you then, Myka. My hand would move against you with determination, scarcely giving you a chance to breathe in the wake of my thrusts. Your neck would be exposed to the air as your spine curved upward, and I would trail my free hand down its length to your breasts and feel their movement with every stroke." 

Her arm seems to be matching pace with yours; she bites her lip as you look on, and her composure finally falls away with a breathless moan, her words becoming needful and rushed as they always do when she approaches the brink of climax. "Oh Myka, you would be so close now, I could feel the tremors beginning within you, your body would try to meld with mine and I would let it, just to feel you fall to pieces beneath me. You would feel so wonderful against me - I just want to touch you, Myka, always. Touch you and feel your skin inside mine, let our nerves spark together and feel the electricity of our union. And the sounds you'd make... I could live a thousand lifetimes with naught but the music of your pleasured breaths for company, and I would live them gladly."

Twin whimpers echo throughout the room as she hesitates and bites her lip again. "Helena..."

"Close your eyes now, Myka. I'm there with you, my fingers are inside you, giving you this pleasure you're feeling. It's my hand that's working so hard and fast within you, my touch that's taking you to your climax. Come for me now, Myka. Let me see the way I make you feel."

Your body chooses that moment to obey, and as your orgasm strikes with her voice caressing your skin you can almost believe that it is her hand between your legs driving you to incoherence. You are only dimly aware of her words turning to breathless moans as she watches you tremble before she lets out half of your name and succumbs to her own climax, her sounds of pleasure feeding back into your own.

Labored breathing fills the air as you both lie in companionable, exhausted silence, trying to regain full use of your limbs. You let your fingers trail languidly through your wetness, as Helena is wont to do when she watches you come down. Finally she clears her throat and you turn your sightless stare from the ceiling to focus on her overly nonchalant expression.

"Well, it would seem that experiment was a success."

A single laugh bursts its way out of your chest, your hand flopping away from your body over the edge of the bed. You try to manage a glare at her, though you're fairly certain you fail because she just raises her eyebrow and laces her fingers.

"Wasn't this a much more exciting way of taking care of your problem than acting alone?"

It certainly was that, but you won't stroke her ego that easily. "Okay, fine. Yes it was. Congratulations on being a century and a half old and still knowing how to use computers for sex."

Helena's smile brightens then, and you can't help but return it. "It's no comparison for actually being with you, however. I will somehow find it within me to overcome my considerable jet lag and make love to you the moment I return home."

"You better not wake me up if you get back at one in the morning."

"In that case if would be eight a.m. to me, darling. You know how I get in the early morning hours. Birds singing, the sun shining in the window..."

Your eyes resist the urge to roll at her singsonging lilt, though only just. "It's one a.m., there is no sun."

"Nonsense. As long as you're there, I will always have sunshine."

Some part of you feels as though the warmth that spreads through you every time she gets so cloyingly sentimental should have long since ceased to be so overwhelming; the rest of you is a shy bookworm who still can't believe this incredible woman has chosen to be with you over all others. As your usual method of responding would require her to be within reach, you merely roll onto your side, propping your head up on your hand, and deflect. "Is this how you charmed the women back in England?"

"Of course not. None of them had ever _heard_ of sunshine."

The harsh buzzing of Helena's Farnsworth interrupts any retort you would have made. You wave off her apology as she reaches for it and settle back, eyes closed, for some unabashed eavesdropping.

"Claudia?"

" _We got eyes on our suspect, but he hit us with some artifact whammy. It was just like the witnesses said - we couldn't move our legs at all, like we had mafia-issue concrete shoes or something. He got away, about five thousand Euros richer too._ "

"Did the artifact have any other effects?"

" _Yeah, Steve got a full dose, says his arms felt paralyzed too. He's fine, but his phone's not. The thing went all bonkers and wouldn't shut up, I had to introduce it to a brick wall to get it to stop. I saw the thing the guy was carrying, it looked techy. I was thinking maybe it emits some sort of electromagnetic pulse._ "

"A sufficiently strong one could alter the electrostatic attraction between muscle fibers and cause those symptoms... It would have to be an incredibly specific frequency though, to do so and not result in death."

" _Sounds artifacty to me. You think we can put together something to block the effects?_ "

"You and I together? Of that I have no doubt. It's just a matter of finding adequate components. Fortunately this hotel offers all sorts of interesting electronics for me to tinker with."

" _Vandalism. Me likey. All right, say hi to Mykes for me, I know she's listening, I can see you looking at her. We'll be back there in twenty._ "

With Claudia's sign-off you open your eyes and lean forward again. Helena closes the Farnsworth with a gentle snap and places it aside. "I apologize, darling, but duty calls."

You simply stare at her for a long moment, a smile slowly growing on your lips at her incredible intellect, speaking so blithely about creating something useful out of spare hotel room electronics. Her brow furrows at your silence.

"What?"

"I love you for your mind."

Sunlight dances in her eyes as her expression clears and she tilts her head forward. "I love you as well, Myka," she murmurs, a reverent acknowledgment of the bond you share that stretches over two continents, seven time zones, and thousands of miles to fill you with such warmth and contentment you feel as though she is lying beside you, wrapped in your arms.

"You be careful out there."

"Always. Sleep well, darling."

With a nod and a smile you reach across and shut down your computer, setting it down on the floor beside your bed. Helena's pillow catches your eye as you curl up on your side, utterly exhausted and wholly satisfied with how you got there, and you pause only for a moment before you grab it and hold it to your chest.

It's a poor substitute, but it will do for now. She'll be back in another day or two, and you'll have your fill of holding her as you drift off to sleep soon enough.

And she'll pay for the way Mr. Bear is staring at you.


End file.
